Resurrection
by Cupido
Summary: HIATUS. When Sam unexpectably dies during a hunt, Dean is left broken. But Dean refuses to accept the fact that his brother is dead. He will bring Sam back to life, even if it means pissing off all the demons of hell and unleashing an apocalypse upon eart
1. I'll Catch You

_**Summary: **When Sam unexpectably dies during a hunt, Dean is left broken. But Dean refuses to accept the fact that his baby brother is gone, he will do everything in his power to bring Sam back, even if it means pissing off all the demons of hell. Dean has no idea what kind of evil he is about to release into this world when he brings Sam back from the dead..._

**-O-**

"Oh my god. You're not joking about this, are you?"

Sam made a small grimace and looked at the young woman sympathetically. To be honest he was surprised how come she was about finding out all about the supernatural. Sam, himself, doesn't remember when he had realized that there was strange things in the darkness that couldn't be explained with logic, but the boogeyman that had been hiding in his wardrobe when he was nine years old just waiting for a moment to rip him apart, well... that kind of didn't make sense to Sam, but still.

Sam glanced over at his brother, Dean, who sat next to him with a slight amused expression. Typical Dean. Not that Dean was all the unsensitive type but when it came to revealing to people about the supernatural, Dean simply just loved it. Which was mostly the reason why it was always Sam who had to tell the truth, cause Dean would only have made fun of the moment. For the most time, the two brothers didn't reveal to their innocents what was really going on when they were for example cleansing out a poltergeist out of a house. They simply just used the excuse that they were bug terminators. Which worked in most cases.

However, not in this one. Their latest gig had been about a young woman, Chase Hendricks, her and her brother had been followed by a violent black dog for quite some time. Sam and Dean had sworn to tell her what was really going on as soon as the black dog was dead. And now it was so, they were forced to tell her.

Still battered and a little bruised, the three of them had taken some coffee to cool their jets. Sam gave her a small smile. "Uhm, no. I wish I was, believe me." Dean gave him a glare. "But, it's the truth. There are a lot more things in this world than black dogs. Even more dangerous things."

Chase twisted her shaking fingers and let out a small breath. "It's just..." She shook her head, struggling to find some words about how she really felt about all this, well, madness. "Hard to understand." Sam nodded in understandment. "I mean, I've always had my suspicions I guess, but all this?" Chase shook her head again. "It's just..." She looked up. "Wow."

Dean took another sip of his coffee and smirked. "Well, believe us, Chase. You'll get used to it. We sure as hell has."

Sam rolled his eyes.

Chase let out a small sound that sounded like a choked sob, but it could possibly be a choked laughter. Sam wasn't quite sure. "Well," she said and took out her wallet. "I just want you to know how grateful I am about this. But I should go, before my brother freaks out, wondering where the hell I am."

Sam nodded. "Can relate to that too."

Dean gave his brother another glare.

Chase took out a small dollar-bill and laid it down on the table as she rose. "Well, thanks again. And I wish good luck to both of you." She smiled. "I mean, with your kind of work, you oughta need it." She gave a last grateful smile before disappearing out of the door to the café.

"Well..." said Sam slowly and turned his head to look at his grinning brother. "That went quite well, right?"

"Yeah, sure," said Dean sarcastically. "You know if we're gonna compare to all the other people we've told." Sam grinned and shook his head. "Remember the gig in Louisana? That old chick with the skinwalker?"

Sam frowned and looked thoughtfully at his brother. Man, Dean knew his stuff. "What, the lady who threw a pan at you?" Sam laughed out.

"Yeah," said Dean, flashing one of his trademark smiles. "And the one who missed." Sam grinned at his brother and took another sip of his coffee. "Man, that's gotta be the worst one."

Sam put down the coffee and shook his head. "Um, no, remember John Langely in Phoenix?"

Dean smiled sheepishly. "Barely."

"The guy with the exorcism," Sam pressed on.

Dean smiled widely. "The guy who told dad about the mental hospital?" Dean couldn't help but to laugh, apparently couldn't Sam either. "Oh, yeah. That's gotta be the worst one. And he was actually serious about it too."

"Uh huh."

Dean nodded and looked into the air like he was thinking about something. "Me, you and dad. Those were the days."

The smile faded from Sam's smile. He knew that Dean was still slightly shaken up from their previous meeting with their father, it was in Chicago and he had once again told them to stop looking for him. That it would be for the best. _Bullshit, _that's what Sam thought about it all. These times he didn't know at all how his father functioned.

Their dad, John Winchester, had trained both Sam and Dean to fight the forces of darkness. Always had the trio been a team. Always. Until now. Sam tried to not think about it all too much, but sometimes it was impossible.

Sam sighed heavily. "We're gonna find him Dean."

Dean nodded painfully. "I know, it's just... now we know that he doesn't wanna be found, you know?" Dean looked up in Sam's saddened eyes. "I guess that hurts the most."

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "But we're gonna figure it out. Like we always do."

Dean smiled. "Whatever, Fancis." Sam groaned in annoyance at the so-called nickname. "We should get back to the motel room and hit the road." Dean stood up and grabbed his leather jacket. "This town is kinda freaking me out." He draged the jacket over his shoulders and pulled the collar upwards. Sam never really got the point of that.

"Yeah, okay," agreed Sam. "Let's move."

---

"So, today was a pretty interesting day."

Dean smirked. Sam just rolled his eyes as he went, "You know, you shouldn't make fun of people who can't understand the truth."

Dean didn't stop smirk. "Still, you gotta admit that it's quite entertaining."

Sam just shook his head as he opened the drawer. They were back in the motel room, getting their stuff so they could get out of the so-called ghostly town as Dean called it. "Well, maybe a little." Dean looked satisfied at that answer. "But it's not all that funny. I mean, we were raised into this world. We were kids when we found out. Everyone didn't get that possibility."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean shrugged. "But still," he pointed out.

Sam sniggered as he thrust his clothes into his bag. "So..." Sam looked over at his brother who was sitting infront of the laptop, instead of bothering to back down his stuff. "Any new creepiness for us to solve?"

Dean looked thoughtful as his eyes searched the screen on the computer. "Well... there's this thing down in Arizona. A little kid's dad was killed and the kid is sure that it was the monster clown under his bed." Sam frowned and grimaced. "Yeah, creepy. Though, I dunno if it's our kind of gig, though."

"I hate clowns," said Sam quietly.

Dean looked up at his brother. "What was that?"

Sam swallowed. "Oh, um, nothing. Keep going."

Dean turned his attention back to the laptop, searching for something else. "Oh, yeah. Here's another one. A clerk in a shop in Salt Lake City said that a man walked into his shop and his eyes were yellow." Dean frowned. Sam moved his hand to his temple, a small throbbing ache was starting to appear. Oh no. Not now. "Okay, that's just wrong. The guy maybe had yellow eyes. Contact linces, hello?" Sam gave out a quite whimper that Dean didn't hear and doubled over slightly.

"Dean..."

Dean nodded, not taking his eyes off the computer. "I know. Freaks these days you know? Can't tell reality from imagination." Dean scanned the computer some more, as Sam held onto the drawer for support as the pain in his head kept increasing. "Oh, here's something." He's gonna fall. He's gonna fall."

"Dean!" yelled Sam desperately.

Dean looked up, slightly annoyed. "What?" All the annoyance disappeared as he saw the screwed up face of pain on his baby brother. "Sam?"

Sam looked up, still holding his hand on the drawer and looked at his brother with fear in his eyes. "Help.." was the last thing he muttered out before falling front.

"Sam!" Dean lunged forward and grabbed his brother before he collapsed and gently lowered him to the ground, as Sam began shaking and blinking. "Sam? What's wrong? Talk to me, what is it?"

Sam's eyes began rolling. "Vision..." That was the last thing he remembered before being pulled into the vision.

---

_"I can't believe this is happening."_

_Sam snapped his eyes open, breathing heavily. The pain was gone, much to his relief. Though the pain had been replaced by another strange feeling. It felt like he was floating._

_"How did things turned this screwed-up?"_

_Sam looked around. They were in a house. Oh god. Dean was infront of him, sitting on a chair by a table, opposite him sat... Sam. Himself! Oh no, he was seeing himself and Dean in a vision. That can't be good. _

_The Sam in the vision shook his head and sniffed a little. "Dean... we gotta do this."_

Sam frowned, do what? Dean shook his eyes violently and Sam was shocked to realize that Dean looked like he was about to cry. "No, Sam. I'm not doing it, dammit. How can you even think about it?"

_"Look at what's happening to the world." Sam watched as a small tear rolled down the Sam in the vision's check. That was the last thing he saw in the vision has he was pulled back into reality..._

---

"Sam, come on! Open your eyes! Dammit, Sam!"

Sam groaned in pain and looked up into Dean's worried and paniced hazel eyes. Everything was spinning. Dean was holding him, which was good, cause Sam probably would've fallen. Oh. He was already on the floor. Great.

"Sam, hey, you with me?"

Sam blinked a few times, trying to get the small pain away. "Yeah... I think so."

"Okay."

Sam felt as Dean pulled him from the floor and up on something soft. This is nice. All soft and... softy. God, he wasn't making any sense. He opened his eyes and realized that Dean was no where in sight. "Dean!"

Dean came rushing out from the bathroom holding a small box of Tylenol. "Hey, it's alright, Sammy. I was just getting some pills for you."

"Oh," said Sam thickly and took the Tylenols. "Thanks. And it's Sam."

Dean sniggered slightly and studied his brother with concern and slight fear as he took the Tylenols. "So, was it a vision?" Sam nodded as he started to rub his temples. "What did you see?"

Sam frowned. "Um... us." Dean stared at his brother intently. "We were in this kitchen, talking. I think you were kind of upset on him." Dean nodded and made a gesture for him to continue. "We both looked kind of miserably and upset, like something really tragic was gonna happen. We were sad." Sam shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's all kind of blurry."

"Hey, it's alright," said Dean comfortingly and rubbed Sam's back. "It's alright."

---

Sam zipped shut his bag and put it in the backseat of the Impala. He sighed as he took a glance on the watch on his wrist. Where the hell was Dean? He was just supposed to take a damn leak. Now that couldn't take that long could it? Well... if you were Dean it might. Sam grinned. He closed the car door and looked around. The small town of Heinside in Idaho. Dean was actually right. If you look closer this town looks kind of ghostly and creepy. The brothers had decided to take that gig down in Arizona after all, which wasn't something Sam looked forward to exactly.

Sam's mind kept wander back to the vision he had just had. It was so weird, but still kinda clear. It was definitely about Sam and Dean. Cause they were both in the vision. But the things they were talking about... it made absolutely no sense. Sam groaned in frustration. Where the heck was Dean?

Sam let his eyes wander over to a greyish old house just opposite the motel. Sam frowned. It was something about the house. Kinda cliché, but Sam was having a major deja vu about that house right now. Sam looked over at the motel again. Dean was gonna take at least another hour. He had time to do some investigating. _Now stay put Sammy, and try not to kill anyone. _Those words still rang inside Sam's head. Whatever. What's the worst that could happen?

Sam threw Dean's words out of his head and walked around the Impala, heading straight towards the mystical house. He walked across the road feeling slightly like a man possessed. _Snap out of it Sam. _Sam walked up the dusty stairs leading towards the porch and gently knocked on the door.

"Hello?" he said out loud. "Anyone home?"

Sam threw a glance over his shoulder. Dean still wasn't there. He gently pushed the door inwards, it creaked and opened. Stepping into the house, Sam felt slightly like he was stepping into the 19th century. The house was old, not doubt about that. And empty. The house was completely empty. _That's kind of weird, _thought Sam has he carefully walked over the wooden floor into the foyer.

He gently slid over to the bookcase standing nearby, there was a photo there. A small but visible. A family. One woman, a man and a little girl. Sam smiled a little. He shouldn't be here. It just felt so wrong. Then how come he felt so drawn to the place? As Sam entered the living room he didn't even notice the curtain cord slowly slidding against him like a snake across the floor.

Picking up a small doll from the floor, Sam didn't see the cord rising from the floor and attacking him. Sam gasped as the cord wrapped itself around his neck. Sam groaned and the doll fell to the floor. Sam started to choke gasping for air. He tried to grab the cord that was around his throat, but it wasn't letting go. A poltergeist. Of course. How could he be so stupid?

Sam fell to his knees as the cord just kept tightening its grip. _Dean. Dean! _Oh god. He was gonna die. He just knew it. This time it was different, Dean wasn't gonna make it in time...

---

After checking out from the motel, Dean walked out of the reception and over towards his baby (aka. The Impala, but Dean prefered to refer it to his baby, cause it simply just was), he looked around but didn't find a sign of Sam.

"Sam?" Dean checked inside the car. What the hell? Sam hadn't had another vision did he? Damn that Francis. Dean groaned trying not worry too much as he looked around. There couldn't possibly be somewhere Sam had gone in a small town like this. Dean's eyes stop wander as his attention went to the house opposite the street.

He didn't know why, but he felt an urge to walk over there. Which he did, since he's Dean and all. With firm steps Dean walked across the road and up to the front door, which to Dean's big surprise was open. "Sam?" He walked into the foyer and the sight before him broke his heart into a million pieces. Sam was lying a few feet away, looking deathly pale and his lips violet-blue. A cord was around his throat. "No..." _Oh, god, no, _Dean mentally screamed as he rushed over to his fallen brother.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he fell to his knees next to his brother. He lifted his limp brother into his arms and started to unleash the cord from his baby brother's neck. He threw the cord away and let Sam's lifeless body fall into his arms completely. Dean shakingly felt for Sam's pulse. There was none. "God, no." Dean let out a sob as he leaned over to listen to Sam's breathes. There was none.

He was gone. Sam was dead.

**-O-**

_Alrighty! I'm so excited about this story. Me personally like the whole idea. You know with Sam dying. But don't get the wrong idea about this story. It won't be all Dean-centric. Sam will come back very soon (hence the title of this story); though you wont believe the consequences neither will Dean. Anyway, **please review! **It's just so easy, just a small one, heh. See ya guys!_


	2. Like A Man Possessed

_Oh my god, I am so sorry for not updating on this story. Don't get the wrong idea or anything, but I am writing this story. But, I've been kind of busy, it's final year and loads of tests and stuff. Not to mention the fact that my computer crashed. Yep, for the very first time I got a virus, or well, my computer got a virus. And man, it sucks! So now I'm using my mom's computer until my own is ready. Anyway, this is the second chapter of "Resurrection" and I hope you all enjoy it._

_**Attention! Read this so you won't get confused!**_

_You could partly say that this story is kind of AU, John is alive, but the story is set after episode "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things", alrighty? So, the crash has happened. The demon did possess John. But John took off after Dean got out of the hospital. Everyone with me? Good. Cause I need the Roadhouse for some coming chapters._

_Thank you all who reviews and keep 'em coming!_

**-oOo-**

"Dean, you have to talk about this."

Empty. That's how he felt. Empty and cold, like a big black hole was eating him up slowly from the inside. Dean was used to feeling cold now and then. Hunting the supernatural isn't exactly a warm-hearting job. But never before had he felt like this. Like there was something evil inside of him, something full of hatred, threatening to burst out and explode. But Dean kept it inside of him. He was pretty much programmed to do so, he wasn't used to show his emotions or even talk about them with other people. Especially not to completely strangers.

Sam's dead.

Dean closed his eyes everytime he heard the man infront of him even mention Sam's name. What right did he have? He hadn't known Sam, he didn't know what Dean was going through. He didn't know a thing. But Dean did. He knew it all... from the minute he felt Sam slip away beneath his fingers.

_"Sam, no!" yelled Dean as he kneeled next to his brother and pulled him against him. He tilted Sam's head backwards, refusing to believe that his little brother was gone. Dean leaned over and desperately blew two breaths into Sam. He moved his hands over to Sam's chest and started to give compressions. "Come on, dammit! Breathe! Don't you dare give up on me, Sam!"_

_Dean removed his hands from his brother's chest and shakily leaned over, praying with every fiber of his body that Sam was breathing. He wasn't. A single hot tear rolled down Dean's cheek as he looked down on his pale brother. "Sammy..." He wasn't gonna give up. This was Sammy. And that meant everything. Dean wasn't gonna stop trying to bring Sam back as long as he had strength left in his body. Though a part of him knew it was hopeless. A part of him knew it was too late._

It had been five weeks since that horrible day. During those five weeks Sam's funeral had took place and Dean had mentally killed himself around ten times. Dean was dead. Or a part of him was. His soul had broken inside his skin, and his heart was growing painfully heavier every single day.

_Depression._

Dean's father, John, had found out about the death suddenly too. Dean kept working on Sam that day in the haunted house until someone had finally pulled him away from his long-gone brother. Dean didn't know how long he had tried to retrive Sam, but his head was aching and he didn't quite feel his hands, or he felt them, but they were more like viberating. Dean realized that the ones who had pulled him away from Sam was paramedics. Dean didn't know how they knew about the house, but he was guessing someone had called the ambulance. At first, Dean was angry that the paramedics had taken him away from his brother and tried to fight them off. But as the paramedics checked Sam over, they officially concluded that Sam was indeed dead, and that's when sobs wretched through Dean's whole weak body and he finally gave in and let the paramedics take him to the hospital, while they also put Sam's body in one of those black bags.

After spending a night in the hospital, a young woman came into his room and started to discuss with him about the funeral. It was too much for Dean and he completely broke down again. Dean's nurse had forced the funeral woman out of Dean's room and the woman explained that she'd call Dean up for a meeting.

After being released from the hospital Dean went straight back to the motel room. It pained him to be there, even though it wasn't exactly the same room where Sam and Dean had stayed previously. Dean just spent three days inside the motel room watching the wall, before deciding it was time to call John. Dean simply just left a message that his father had to come to Richardtown in Nevada. That was all. Only seven hours later John appeared in the motel room doorway.

Dean guessed that when his father had heard his older son's weak voice in the voicemail, it was all it took for John Winchester to know that something was wrong.

_"Dean? Son?" John Winchester gently opened the motel room door and looked around in the small semi-lit room. The room smelled awful. There was simply no other words for it. John quietly walked across the room to the center. "Dean? You here?"_

_"Dad." It was a small and weak voice._

_John turned around to the sound of the voice. The sight scared him. Dean was sitting against the wall in the corner. He looked pale, tired and he looked like he had lost some weight. "Oh my god, Dean." John was immediately at his son's side, studying him worriedly, as Dean looked more devastated then ever. Dean looked up, and John saw that his son's eyes were bloodshot, Dean took out a white paper and handed it over to his father. John looked at it in confusion. "Dean, what-?"_

_"The funeral," whispered Dean weakly like it was the most painful thing in the whole world, which for Dean it certainly was. "That woman wants to know when it sees us fit to bury him."_

_John shook his head. Dean couldn't be talking about Sam. He just couldn't._

_Dean painfully turned to his father, as tear rolled down his check. "I'm so sorry, dad. I was supposed to protect Sammy." Dean shook his head and let his head fall down into his knees. "But I couldn't... I couldn't.."_

_I couldn't._

Well, after that things just seemed like hell. John had taken care of all the funeral arrangements and had forced Dean into bed. When it was time for Sam's funeral, Dean was sure he was gonna loose it completely. But Sam needed him to be strong. Even though Sam wasn't with Dean anymore, didn't that mean he was gonna fail him.

"Dean?"

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the young man infront of him. His shrink. Cute, right? It was John's idea completely. He felt, since Dean wouldn't talk to him he'd talk to someone else. Yeah, right.

_Anger._

"Look," said Dean and leaned over where he was sitting. "I'm not really comfortable talking about my brother, alright?"

"Well," said the shrink, whose name was Tristan, at least that's what Dean thought, and looked down at the file in his hands. "We are here to talk about Sam," Dean looked away, trying to ignore the ache that was coming to his chest. "And how you're dealing with it. You agreed to come here didn't, you?" Dean turned back to the shrink and swallowed, trying to keep his emotions under control. "Look, I know how you feel, really, I do. Why do you think I became a shrink?" Dean rolled his eyes. _Gee, who knows? _What the hell was Dean doing here?

"Look, dude, no disrespect or anything," said Dean and straightened up with an angry face. "But don't you dare sit here and tell me you know how I feel, cause you have not the slightest idea."

"A big black hole," said Tristan and his eyes saddened. Dean looked up, shocked. "You feel like a part of you is dead. And that it's never gonna be alright again." Dean sighed. _Okay, maybe he should give the guy a chance. _Still, Dean wasn't quite ready to talk about Sam. It just didn't feel right. "My sister... died 5 years ago. I was 23. She was the only thing I had left in this world, and then she died. In a car crash." Dean looked down sadly. "She was only 19 years old." Tristan shook his head. "19 years old, and her life ended so sudden. Everything changed after that, I went into both shock and denial, and I was so sure my life was over." Tristan looked up and met Dean's eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Dean quietly.

Tristan nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard. "Grief is a strange thing, Dean. It comes in many different forms, but it's always the same... grief." Tristan looked up from his clipboard and looked at Dean expectably. "Now, I trust you can talk to me about this. The things you say to me stays between us." Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably. A part of him really wanted to pour out his feelings, but another part kept telling him to not open up. "Now tell me... about Sam. What was he like?"

Dean smiled slightly as warm and good memories of Sam came flooding to his mind. "Sam was... a geek." Dean laughed quietly and Tristan smiled. "You know, after our mother died, it was basically me taking care of him, you know? Sam was my responsible."

_Guilt._

"And your father?" asked Tristan and wrote something down again on the clipboard.

"He was," Dean looked away and shook his head. "He was just busy. He had things to do. Things he didn't want me and Sam involved with. Sam didn't like that, he never quite accepted it." Dean let the memories come back to him. It hurt. To say Sam's name. To think Sam's name. Everything hurt. "After Sam graduated, he got accepted to Stanford. Dad didn't want Sam to leave." Tristan raised his eyebrows. "He thought that Sam should stay, and help him with the family business, you know?" Dean didn't know why he hated to say Sam's name, but it just hurt too much to say it.

"But Sam went anyway, didn't he?"

Dean nodded and looked down. "A part of me hated Sam for leaving, I needed him to be together with us. I thought.. that maybe we could be a family again. Another part of me is glad that Sam left. He was safe.. you know from all the craziness." Tristan looked slightly taken back and confused. Dean mentally kicked himself for being so careless. "Um, you know, our family business is kind of wild." Tristan looked even more taken back. _Shut the hell up, Dean! _"Not that it's illegal or anything. Well... Yeah... when Sam's girlfriend was killed, he returned home. I guess he couldn't stand being there after the accident that killed her." Tristan nodded.

Tristan cleared his throat uncomfortably and went on. "So, you felt a lot of responsibility when it came to Sam?" Dean looked down, as he felt a burning in his eyes. "I know you feel guilty over what happened."

Dean looked up and he didn't even bother to stop the tear that came rolling down his cheek. "I should've been there. I should've protected him. I failed him."

"Dean," said Tristan with sympathy in his voice. "I know this doesn't seem as a comfort right now. But people who die are meant to die. So even if you had been there in time to save Sam, he probably would've died anyway."

This dude is kind of weird.

Dean blinked. "You're right. That isn't much comfort."

Tristan nodded. "I can understand that. But I know you're feeling like you're about to break down completely. But believe it or not, it will get better."

_Denial._

Somehow, Dean doubted it.

-

An hour and half later, Dean was released from Tristan's office. Dean was actually surprised at himself. When he walked into that shrink office two hours later he was practically a hundred percent sure that he was gonna leave feeling exactly the same. Somehow, after talking about Sam with Tristan for nearly two hours it felt slightly better. Dean didn't know why, but it felt like this huge heavy thing had been lifted off his shoulders.

Dean walked over towards the Impala and pulled out the keys. He suddenly stopped. No. He shouldn't be driving the car without Sam. It just didn't feel right without having Sam in the passenger seat gagging him about his so-called 'mullet rock'.

_I swear man, you gotta update your cassette-tape collection..._

_Why?_

_Well, for one they are cassette tapes, and two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock._

_House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shutgun shuts his cake-hole._

Dean smiled inwards. The cold feeling he was feeling everytime he thought of Sam was unbearable. Dean turned away from the Impala. He didn't feel like walking anyway. He'd been trapped in his own mind for so long now. He needed fresh air.

As Dean walked down the streets of the smalltown Richardtown his mind kept drifting back to Sam. Dean had shed so many tears that he wasn't sure if he had any left. Dean walked down the sidewalk, looking around him at the leaves that was slowly falling from the trees. Dean walked like that for another ten minutes, until he suddenly stopped. He didn't think of where he was going, but somehow he ended up here anyway. The graveyard. The place where Sam was, the place where Dean could truly feel his brother's essence.

Dean walked pass the grey tombstones until he stopped infront of his brother's.

_Samuel Winchester_

_1983 - 2007_

_Beloved Son and Brother_

Dean gently kneeled infront of the stone and took a calming breath. "Hey, there Sammy." He caressed the grass infront of the stone, looking down. "Right, sorry. You don't like it when people call you Sammy. It's Sam, right? I'm sorry for not visiting you lately... Things been..." Dean looked up at the stone and let out a small sad chuckle. "Come on, Sam. This is so hard. You're supposed to be here, remember? Who is else gonna be picking on me about my cassette-tape collection? Who else is gonna be telling me 'It's Sam'?"

_Fear._

Dean let out a small sob and shook his head fiercely. This wasn't supposed to have happened. How could he have let this happen? They were supposed to be a family again.

"Dean?"

Dean quickly brushed away the tears and looked up to see his father standing there, looking sad. Dean stood up and turned to his father. "Dad."

"What are you doing here?" asked John and kneeled next to the gravestone, straightening up the fallen flowers so that they once again laid beautifully right infront of the stone. When he was done he looked at Dean, who was now also crouching infront of Sam's gravestone. "I thought you were at the..."

"I was," interrupted Dean and nodded dully.

"How did it go?" asked John casually, but Dean saw right through it. He knew his father was as broken up as him. Dean simply just shrugged. "Look, son, I don't want you to feel any hatred against me for sending you there. You wouldn't talk to me, so I needed you to talk to someone else.

"Yeah, a shrink," scoffed Dean. "A complete stranger who never knew Sam." John looked away. "Look, dad, I'm sorry. I know you mean well... but I dunno. It just doesn't feel right. None of this. Sam's not here, so it doesn't feel right anymore."

"I'm proud of you, Dean," said John suddenly.

Dean looked at his father surprised.

"I mean it, Dean," said the older hunter and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "The last two years have been rough. I haven't been the father I shouldn't have been. Most times, you were more of a father to Sam than I ever was..."

Dean's eyes once again turned glassy. "Dad..."

John put an arm around his son. "No, Dean. Listen to me. I need you to understand this. I know this whole thing has been eating you up slowly inside, but you need to be strong. Not for me, but for yourself. Sammy would've wanted that. Now, I won't loose you the way I did Sammy." John pulled Dean in a fierce embrace and a tear rolled onto his father's shoulder. "This is gonna be alright, Dean. I promise you that."

Dean pulled back and once again brushed away a couple of tears. "I miss him so much."

"I know, son," said John. "I know. I do too. But there isn't anything we can do for Sam now." Dean met his father's dark eyes. "Sam's already gone. He's at peace now. I think you need to accept that."

Dean still felt that he was in denial over Sam's death. He knew it. He knew Sam was dead, God, he had even seen the funeral. He had seen the gravestone with Sam's name carved into it. But still... some small and distant part of Dean still hoped that Sam was alive. Dean knew it was a stupid feeling. But he couldn't help it. But now.. his father wanted him to accept the fact that Sam was really gone forever? Of all the things they had faced, now and then there was always things coming up that almost killed them. But always had they been alright. Dean was dying and Sam found a way to cure him. Now, Sam was dead and Dean felt a responsible to Sam to not give up.

_Acceptance. Or not._

"No."

Dean pulled away from his father and stood up. John stood up too confused, searching his son for some kind of answer. "Dean?"

"No," repeated Dean and took a few more steps away from his father. "I'm sorry, dad. I can't deal with this. Dad, I'm not strong enough. I need Sam."

"Dean.."

Dean just shook his head and turned around walking away from the gravestone and his father. He could hear his father calling his name out. _Dean! Dean! _Dean kept walking out of the graveyard and as he came out on the street, he started to run back the same road he had come.

He couldn't accept it. He simply just couldn't. There are loads of things Dean can handle, but Sammy being dead isn't one of them. For the last three weeks Dean had been so caught up in denial that he hadn't even bothered to think. It was over with that now.

Dean reached the Impala that was parked outside the shrink's office. He reached for the keys in his pocket and threw open the car door. He jumped in and started the engine. After all the things they had hunted, this couldn't be the end. Dean drove straight down the street and straight out of the town.

Like a man possessed, Dean drove all across the state of Nevada, all across Utah and the across Colorado and drove straight into Kansas. Throughout the whole trip, Dean's cell phone must've beeped at least 20 times. Dean was to caught up to even notice. He refused to accept that Sam was dead.

Dean drove into a town that Sam and Dean had been leaving quite recently and stopped the car infront of a familiar house. Dean jumped out of the car and walked up to the porch and roughly knocked on the door. No answer. Dean knocked again and finally the door opened.

A young man was sitting in a wheel-chair and was shocked to see Dean.

Dean smirked.

"Hello, Neil. You and I are gonna perform a little spell."

**.oOo.**

_Alrighty! And there was the second chapter. For you people who don't remember Neil, he was the guy who brought Angela back to life in the episode "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things", and yes, Angela zombie girl did break his neck, which is why he is in a wheelchair._

_Now Sam will be back in the next chapter, I can promise you guys that!_

_Anyway, hope you like the chapter and **leave a little review, would ya?**_


	3. Dead Heart In A Dead World

_Hey everyone! Okay, so now I feel pretty bad, cause I haven't updated in nearly two months, yeah, sorry about that. Well, I've been lying sick all week so I might as well write a little on this story. I really don't want the story to progress so slowly, but it's the reviews who keep me going, so the more reviews I get the faster I updated xD._

_And **THANK YOU **everyone who reviewed! 27 reviews in two chapters, that is a record for me, I think, yep. And some of you were worried when I brought in Neil in the last chapter, I would've been too. Heh. Don't worry, I could never bring Sam back as an evil zombie. Never. So, here's chapter 3 and I hope you all enjoy._

_--_

_Your heavy heart is made of stone... - _"A Message" - Coldplay

--

Pushing the wheel-chair back in, Dean stepped over the treshold and closed the door behind him. Dean turned to Neil and gave him one of his famous trade-mark smirks. Neil looked possibly both spooked and terrified.

"Long time no see, Neil," said Dean and took a step closer. Neil grabbed his wheels and pushed himself slightly backwards. "I see you survived your little encounter with the living dead." Dean nodded to the wheelchair.

"I'm paralyzed," countered Neil with raised eyebrows.

Dean took a step pass Neil and looked around in the semi-lit living room. "Yeah, well, you get my point." Sarcasm was one of Dean's big specialties. However, Sam was usually the reason Dean was being sarcastic.

"Look, man," said Neil and swallowed. "What are you doing here?"

Dean knew very well that he shouldn't be there at all. He didn't even know what he came to think of when he contacted Neil. Guess he was thinking of Sammy too much to care to think what the hell it was he was going. "I told you," said Dean urgently. "We're gonna perform a spell. I need someone from the dead."

"What?" Neil looked appalled. "Are you crazy, dude? You can't bring someone back like that!"

Dean looked over at Neil darkly, his eyebrows raised. "You did."

"Yeah," Neil agreed. "And look how good that turned out." Dean turned away, and glanced over at the dancing shadows the small lamp from the table threw at the wall. "That wasn't Angela. That was some souless being from hell without a mind or conscience."

Dean nodded and turned his attention back to Neil, his green eyes glittering in the dark. "Yeah, you got that right. But you only brought back Angela's body. Now, I'm not gonna make the same mistake that you did." He turned to Neil completely, his half face hidden in the shadows. "I'm going to bring back the body, the mind and the heart. Everything."

"Dude, I can't," said Neil and shook his head, looking afraid. "Look, what happened to me the last time I brought someone back from hell. I am wheel-chaired bound for life."

Dean slowly leaned over, and rested his hands on both sides of the wheel-chair and looked into Neil's eyes. _I am not playing games. _And Dean needed Neil to understand that. "If you don't help me with this-" Neil gulped. "Believe me when I say that being wheel-chaired bound for the rest of your life is gonna be the least of your problems."

Neil held up his hands in defense and Dean backed off slightly. "Alright, man, just chill," said Neil in a shaking voice.

"Do you have the spell?"

"No, I got rid of that thing long ago."

"So, where can I find a copy?"

Neil rubbed his temples, looking like he was trying to figure out an extra difficult math problem. "Um... In the book where I found the spell."

"And where's the book now?" asked Dean sternly.

"Um, the library at the school," said Neil blinking a few times. "But it oughta be closed by now."

Dean smirked. Like a closed library was gonna keep him away from that book when it felt like everything depended on that single spell. "Oh, that won't be a problem. I'll get the spell, you prep everything else. I'll be back. Soon."

Dean turned around, grabbed the door-knot and walked outside, closing the door behind him.

Neil let out a relieved sigh and ran a hand across his face, wiping away the sweat. _This guy meant serious business._

--

Dean walked down the stone-path leading from Neil's house. He knew he must've acted like a crazy desperate man, but right now he didn't seem to care much. He walked over to the Impala and just stood against it for a minute. The spell was gonna work, right? It oughta to be. If he did it right, with no mistakes, Sam would come back. He would be geek-boy Sammy again. And they would be a family again.

Dean took a deep breath and turned around leaning his head against the car, letting the cold wind brush through his hair. _God. _If he had protected Sam in the first place he wouldn't be here right now, and Sam wouldn't lie rutting in a wooden coffin. A soft sob escaped Dean's lips and shook his head slightly, he wasn't gonna break down now. Not here. A loud-pitched ring signal caught Dean's attention and he immediately stuck his hand into his pocket and dragged out his phone.

"Hello?"

_"Dean, where are you?" _His father. Dean should've known that he wasn't gonna travel far without his father calling him sooner or later.

"Dad, I can't really talk right now," said Dean, to his big surprise, coldly. He usually wasn't rejective towards his father. He didn't go against his father, that was always Sam's job. "I don't have the time." Dean opened the door to the Impala and slid in.

_"Well you will make time, son." _That's John Winchester, always sending out orders wherever he walked. _"Now where are you?"_

"Dad, just don't ask," said Dean curtly.

_"Yeah, well, I'm asking."_

"Just don't worry about me," said Dean as he started the engine of his car. He smiled inwards at all those times Sam had complained about the function of the Impala. At the time, Dean had wanted nothing more than to shut Sam up, now however, he would give the world just to hear Sam gag about the car again. "I just need some time to think, I'll be back soon," Dean finished.

_"Look, son, I know this isn't easy for you, it isn't for me either," _Dean couldn't help to feel slightly guilty as he heard the sadness in his father's voice. _"That's why we need to work together on this. Sammy wouldn't have wanted this family to fall apart." _Dean closed his eyes, as it felt like his heart turned in his chest, he hated when people talked about Sam. It made the painful feeling he was feeling inside even more unbearable.

"No, see dad, Sam's dead," said Dean, his voice crackin' with emotion. "So we really wouldn't know at all what Sam would've wanted."

_"Dean..."_

Dean opened his eyes. "Just give me some space, dad," and than he flipped the phone shut. He threw the phone onto the passenger seat and just sat in the car, looking out in the darkness infront of him. Was it night already? Weird, he hadn't noticed that the sun had set. However, it had been long since he had really seen the sun with his eyes so it didn't really matter. It was a weird feeling, he thought, feeling so lost. And lonely. He could hear his brother's voice echoing through his mind.

_People just don't disappear Dean, other people just stop looking for them..._

Dean leaned forward, grabbing his belly, as several desperate sobs wretched through his whole body. "Sam..." his voice came out as a mere plea whisper, as hot tears streaked down his cheeks. _No... He wasn't gonna break down. _He needed to pull himself together. He straightened up and swallowed. "Don't worry, Sammy, I won't stop looking for you."

--

"So, how are we gonna play this?" asked Dean as he threw down the book infront of Neil who looked at it in disbelief. Dean figured that Neil probably hadn't expect Dean to have gotten hold of the book. Never underestimate a brother in grief.

"Actually, still wheel-chaired bound over here," replied Neil and indicated to the rolling chair underneath him with his hands. "So, it won't be 'us' playing this," Neil grabbed the book and wheeled past Dean. "It'll be you."

"What? You need legs to use your mouth now too?" said Dean sarcastically. Neil scowled at him. Dean smirked. "I just need you to read the text. Ancient greek isn't exactly my specialty. But I think it's yours."

Neil just shook his head. "I just don't get why you're doing this, Dean. If anything goes wrong-"

"It won't go wrong," interrupted Dean as he loaded a shut-gun carefully. Maybe not exactly the weapon you needed when you were about to bring someone back to life, but hey, better safe than sorry.

"I just don't understand who it is you're willing to sacrifice so much for..."

Dean shoved the shot-gun down on the table loudly and angrily turned to Neil. "It's Sam, alright?!" Dean didn't really wanna mention Sam in all of this, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Neil would've asked anyway.

"Your partner?" asked Neil with a frown.

Dean snorted. "Yeah, my partner." Dean sighed heavily. "My brother too." Dean picked up the shot-gun and shoved it down his inside-pocket and grabbed the herbs needed for the spell that layed on the table too.

"Right," said Neil quietly and looked down for a short moment, before looking up at Dean again. "Well, if this is gonna work properly, we need to be by Sam's body." Neil looked sympathetic.

Dean felt completely shattered at that, however it was probably nothing compared to how he looked.

Neil's eyes widened slightly. "He does have a body, right? I mean, you didn't-"

"Don't," warned Dean. He didn't wanna hear more, and if Neil said another word about Sam, Dean was a hundred percent sure that he was gonna jump him and punch him to death. "There's a grave if that's what you mean," choked Dean out and also grabbed his special knife that he always carried around.

"That's what it takes," countered Neil, nodding. "I mean, if Sam had been crem-"

"Help me God, but if you say one more word, Neil, I am gonna shoot your wheel-chaired bound ass," warned Dean in a murderous tone, which had great affect since Neil suddenly looked like he was about to puke. "And you know I will."

Neil just gave a small nod.

"Alright," Dean straightened up and walked past Neil and opened the front door. "We have a little road-trip a head of us, so we should go now." Neil gave him a glare, and Dean couldn't help but to give a smirk. "Or in your case roll."

Neil rolled past Dean with an offended look. "Very funny."

"I'm a funny guy," said Dean with a shrug. Hell, this was gonna be one long trip.

---

John walked down the aisle of the small, but actually very beautiful church. It was the same church where they had buried Sammy. The funeral itself had taken place outside. John didn't have the heart back then to even step a foot inside the church. Now, he felt kind of forced to. He didn't know where else to turn. And he needed to get his emotions out.

John turned towards the confession booth and walked inside and sat down. Hell, it had been a very long time since his last confession, he couldn't even remember the last time. Still, John hunted demons for supper and poltergeists for dessert, a little faith-hunting wouldn't been all that hard. A dragging sound could be heard and John saw the small contours of the priest sitting on the other side of the grating.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned," said John quietly. Oh, hell, yes, he had sinned. But his biggest sin must've been not protecting Sammy like had had promised Mary, instead he had given over that responsibility to his oldest son. Stupid shit.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" came the normal response from the priest on the other side.

John pinched the bridge of his noise and ran a hand through his unwashed hair. "Well, it's been a couple of... decades." John let out a small snort. "Yeah, it's been a long time. I haven't been in a church since my wife died, at least not on a ceremony."

"Are you sure of that son?" asked the priest from the other side of the grating.

John gave a small shrug. "Of course have I been in a church after my wife's funeral, but that was actually more like..." John smiled. "Trespassing. And I didn't exactly go to church to get some advice from the _big guy,_" John said, obviously refering to the so-called God-man. "The last time I remember being in a church, I was actually performing a dang - sorry, Father - hard exorcism."

A small sigh could be heard from the other side. "Hm. And you did clean up after you, I persume?"

John grinned sheepishly. "Someone else did it for me, I think."

"Well, son, the Lord is very forgiving," said the priest. "Just not to sons-of-bitches like yourself."

John snorted in laughter and got out of the booth immediately, so did the priest obviously, since he was outside the booth before John was. Jim Murphy held his arms out. "Now give me some love, your old demon hunter." John smiled and gave Jim a bear hug. The two men broke apart and grinned at each other.

"Now, who are you calling old, old man?" asked John jokingly. "You're starting to reach your golden age, now aren't you?"

Jim let out a sound that sound like 'pffiut', and waved a hand at John. "Please, I'm still in my mid-fifties."

"You're 64, Jim."

"Well, in spirit-"

"Yeah, yeah, in spirit, I'm 26."

Jim winced. "Yes, good point. Let's not look at it like that." The two men started to walk towards the altar as the subject came into the one thing John knew was gonna come up. "So how are things?" asked Jim casually.

Joh nodded lightly with a small smile. "Things are..." The smile fell, suddenly replaced with a sadness. "Not good. Things are actually pretty bad." Jim nodded in understandment and rested a hand on John's shoulder as they sat down on a bench infront of the altar. "I don't know what to do, Jim," John sighed and finally let his shield down. It was one thing when the older hunter was with Dean, he could never let his guard down like that with him, but with Jim it was different. "I'm worried about Dean, ever since the funeral..."

Jim held up a hand to silence John. "John, my old friend, Dean's grieving, it's natural. And you oughta let him. You need to let Dean handle the shit he's feeling."

John cleared his throat, and smiled a little at his old priest friend. "And how many times have you told me to swear in church is completely out of the question?"

Jim, however, didn't look the slightest bit guilty. "Well, swearing is how I deal with grief. Being distant and angry however is Dean's way." Jim frowned. "But the questions is, what is yours? You know except for going a little mad and hunt down demons."

"I think I'm still trying to figure that out," said John honestly. Truth was, John was still in denial. A part of him felt like everything was gonna be alright. "It's just... I've never felt this guilty before, not even when Mary..."

"John..."

John looked at Jim with glassy eyes, as he felt tears forming underneath his eyelocks. "I promised, Mary. I promised her I'd keep the boys safe, no matter what happened. Now look how that turned out."

Jim shook his head easily. "You can't control the power of nature, John. None of us can."

Boy, who wrong both of the older men was, which they were soon about to find out...

---

Alright. This was it. The moment has about to start. The moment that was the only thing Dean had been thinking about the last twelve hours. Now, both Dean and Neil was standing infront of Sam's grave, with another thousand herbs that was outspread around Sam's grave. Neil took out a small bottle and poured a blue-looking liquid over the grass.

Dean straightened up and cast a glance at Neil. "Everything's set?"

"Yeah, it should," said Neil and took out a small double-edged knife. "If it isn't... we're about to find out in a new seconds." Dean nodded at Neil, giving him the sign to start. Neil leaned over and grabbed the large ancient book lying next to his wheel-chair at the grass. He opened the book and find the right page and started to read out loud in greek.

The wind started to pick up, and a few of the lit candles on some graves suddenly blew out. Weird noises could be heard from the sky as Neil kept chanting in greek. _Well, that can't be good, _thought Dean. But he hadn't time to be responsible right now, he had promised to take care of Sam forever and that was what he was doing to. "Come on," muttered Dean to himself, praying with every limb in his body.

"Dean," Neil yelled out, and Dean knew that was his cue. He grabbed some of the black voodoo powder Neil had given him earlier and threw it across the grave. Before the powder even hit the grass it disappeared and instead a black ray of light shot through the grass and down into the earth and disappeared. Neil threw Dean the knife and Dean grabbed it. "Now he needs your blood," said Neil cryptically. Dean didn't hesitate for a moment and dragged the sharp knife across his palm. Dean flinched slightly, as he dropped his blood over Sam's grave.

Dean stepped backwards, and the wind layed down again. Dean looked over at Neil with raised eyebrows, "Well?"

"It's done," said Neil simply.

Dean looked merely impressed. "Hm, it was that easy? I oughta do this more often."

"Resurrection rituals are never easy," said Neil outrageously. "And it's certainly not something to joke about."

"I never said I was joking," said Dean and grabbed the double-edged knife.

"Still," said Neil sourly. "You shouldn't expect too much. There's possibly around 30 percent chance that the spell actually worked, and around 5 percent chance that even if the spell worked, Sam was brought back." Dean felt something form in his throat, and he looked at Neil menacingly. "It's not my fault, Dean. That's just how it works."

"But, if it works," said Dean, a light hope aching in his voice. "How long will it take?"

Neil shrugged. "I think it's different from case to case. Angela came back after around a minute, but she wasn't exactly human." Dean looked down. "Dean, I don't think it worked." Dean looked away, as another set of tears started to form in his eyes, blurring his vision. "But maybe it's for the best, you shouldn't play God, I've learned that the hard way." A small tear ran down Dean's cheek quietly, as Neil rolled his wheel-chair out of sight. "Don't worry, I'll just take the bus back home." And then he was gone.

The cold harsh truth hit Dean hard as it finally came to him for the very first time. Sam was dead. His baby brother was truly gone, and he wasn't coming back, no matter how many voodoo spells Dean cast. The legs beneath him gave up, and Dean quietly sank to the ground, his eyes never leaving Sam's name that was carved into the stone. "I'm so sorry, Sam," came the whisper of anguish from Dean's lips. He looked around and noticed a shovel nearby.

_It's around 30 percent chance that the spell actually worked._

Neil's voice echoed in his mind as Dean reached for the shovel and started digging. He knew he'd probably burn in hell for it, but if Sam really did wake up, he needed to get him out of the coffin. Dean dug with a speed he never had used before and when he finally felt the hardness underneath the shovel a feeling of nausea spread through his body. Dean threw away the shovel and kneeled. Now if the spell hadn't worked, Sam's rutting corpse was gonna lie in the coffin and Dean would probably turn mental for the rest of his life.

Just as he was about to reach and grab the coffin lock, another wind breezed through the trees and Dean's hair. Dean's hand stopped and he frowned, when he heard a small whimpering. "What the hell...?" Dean stood up and looked around, the whimpering could still be heard. It sounded slightly inhuman. Dean got out of the open grave and looked around in the empty dark cemetery. "Hello?" The whimpering grew louder, and now it more sounded like someone was sobbing.

Dean turned around and was shocked to see a naked young man lying a few yards away. _Oh, god. _The man was obviously hurt since he had large gashes and bruising on his back. Dean rushed across the lawn and feel to his knees next to the young man. "Hey?" He gently layed his hand on the naked man's shoulder and warmth spread through his body, a warmth he hadn't felt since... "Sammy?" Dean gently turned him around and he let out a gasp when he noticed that the young shivering man was Sam.

"Oh, god, Sam," Dean choked and lifted Sam's naked fragile body up in his arms. A few tears escaped Dean's eyes as he touched his little brother's face with a gentleness he didn't know he had in him. _It worked! It worked! _Dean mentally screamed of joy and relief. Sam looked exactly the same since the last time Dean had seen him, his brown bangs hanging into his face.

Dean held Sam even closer, to make sure Sam wasn't cold, as Sam's eyes started to flutter. Finally after a lot of strength, Sam's eyes opened and Dean just smiled through his tears as he looked when Sam's eyes searched his. "Dean?"

"It's OK, Sammy," whispered Dean softly and with great warmth. "I got you. It's gonna be OK now."

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed a few times. "Dean, I've missed you."

Dean let out another sob between joy and sadness. "I've missed you too, little brother."

_As long as I'm around... Nothing bad is gonna happen to you._

And boy, Dean was gonna keep that promise. Now he'd never let his brother go again.

**---**

_Alrighty! And there it was! Chapter Three! Oh, and I hope you all know who Pastor Jim is? Now he was actually killed in episode 'Salvation', but this is kinda AU, so he's still alive, just like John... and just like Sam now. I hope you guys were satisfied with the way I brought Sam back, it was the best way I could think of. I didn't want him to like crawl out of the coffin, that's just too much Buffy. _

_Alright, now when Sam's back and Dean's back in fighting mode, I will bring on all hell's demons. So check out the next chapter (which I've actually already started on, yay!) cause the Winchester Brothers are back then and the demons are coming to bring Sam back to hell. Oh and also F.Y.I. this isn't gonna be a one-shot, I will have Sam's point of view sometimes and John's too._

_And OH MY GOD! I am sorry, but I need to mention this. Did you guys see the last trailer at the end of Crossroads Blues, seems like Deanie thinks Sam really is dead in that explosion. Maybe we finally get that darn hug? xD._

_Now, don't you forget to review!_


	4. Light Before Darkness

_Hey, I'm back with a brand-new chapter and you have to - once again - excuse the long wait. See, originally I was supposed to post this chapter before December! But I forgot and then everything was so hectic with Christmas and all that. I'm a real Christmas Nazi. Seriously. I spent hours in the mall last week searching for a present for my dog! Who, you know totally doesn't care about Christmas and stuff, the only thing he cares about is eating on the Christmas tree and food. Oh, well._

_Anyway, enough of my rambling. Here's the fourth chapter, and I know this story is coming slow but my writing skills has been very rusty these past couple of months. I am out of inspiration all the time! I'm guessing this is my true first Writer's Block._

_---_

_The first condition of immortality is death. _- Stanislaw J. Lec

_---_

Dean was in shock. He was officially and mentally in shock. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected with bringing his baby brother back from the dead. Huh. Bringing his baby brother back from the dead. Sounded more and more messed-up the more he thought about it. Sure, deep inside of him, Dean had hoped that the resurrection spell would indeed work, but also a small part of him knew it just couldn't. It was simply against all laws of nature. Apparently destiny had other plans.

Dean removed his hands from his face and glanced over at his father who was sitting opposite against him staring into space, lost in his own thoughts. John Winchester looked like he had just aged ten years. Hell, who could blame him? It's not everyday you find out that your dead son isn't exactly dead. _Oh, god. _Something just struck Dean's mind. What if he had messed it all up? What if Sam had come back wrong? Sure, Dean and Neil had made sure that not only Sam's body was brought back, but this was deep shit they were dealing with. Dean can't get his peace of mind until he has spoken with Sam face-to-face.

Dean swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat to disappear. God, this was too much. He couldn't just sit here. Dean sighed heavily and got up. He paced for a moment or two before leaning his head against the church-wall, letting the coldess of the marble cool his head down. It had been one hour now since Dean had seen Sam lying naked on the green grass outside the chapel. After just holding his fragile brother for a minute, panic had grippen Dean and he realized that Sam had lost conscious. Dean had no idea how he was going to explain the situation to his father and the old pastor, so he simply decided to not think about it and rushed his baby brother into the church where John and Jim were sitting, deeply engaged in a conversation. When John first saw his naked younger son in his oldest son's arms, Dean was a hundred percent sure he was going to pass out.

C'mon, this is John Winchester we're talking about. He doesn't just pass out. Not even if he sees his dead naked son.

Jim had checked Sam over and loudly concluded to the two worried hunters that Sam was in slight shock and was on the verge of hypothermia. Jim had disappeared with Sam into the chapel's own infirmary, leaving the two Winchesters alone.

John looked up at his oldest son. "I don't understand this."

"Well, that makes two of us," lied Dean pretty convincingly. Dean couldn't imagine the disappointment on his father's face if he found out how Sam really was alive and well again. A door creaked open, taking father and son out of their thoughts. Jim walked out, looking a little stressed and gently shut the door behind him.

"Sam?" Dean asked and turned to the old priest. John stood up expectably.

"He's stable," said Jim with a light sigh, and ran a hand through his greyish hair. "He has some light bruising on his back and around his neck." Dean winced and looked away, knowing exactly why Sam had neck bruises. "But I was able to prevent the hypothermia and he is pretty much a healthy young man."

Dean let out a breath, not realizing he had been holding it. John closed his eyes in relief and gently sat down on the chair again, however he was a long way from being able to relax. Too many questions were swimming inside the oldest hunter's head.

Jim turned to Dean and eyed him suspiciously. "Care to explain how Sam is a healthy young man?"

"Sorry, pastor," said Dean with a small snort. "I never really paid much attention in Health class."

"Dean," warned John, sensing the heavy sarcasm and snarkiness in his son's voice.

Dean growled in frustration and rubbed his eyebrow. "I told you, I was driving towards the chapel when I noticed someone lying on the grass in the middle of the cemetery!"

"So, you decided to simply go and check it out?" asked Jim with raised eyebrows.

"Well, if you saw a naked person lying in the middle of a cemetery in the dead night, right next to an open grave, wouldn't you think it's just a slight suspicious?" asked Dean sarcastically. "So, yes, I went to check it out and that's when I realized it was Sammy. The rest you know."

John stood up again and started to pace furiously. "Jim, explanation please?"

Jim shook his head. "This is simply just impossible. People just don't rise from the dead. Unless-"

"I wan't to see him," interrupted Dean. "Can I see him?" Dean turned to Jim, Jim opened his mouth to answer, but Dean didn't listen. "Great thanks," and with that the younger hunter left the room.

"Unless?" asked John, wanting to know what his old friend had meant.

"Unless someone brought Sam back," said Jim matter-of-factly. "With a resurrection spell."

"Wait, like necromancy?" asked John, his eyes wide in awe and fear.

"Yes," said Jim and ran a hand over his beard. "Of course, it's very rare. People doesn't just perform resurrection rituals anymore. It takes loads of dark magic to even start the ritual. No one is that desperate, that they're willing to mess with forces like that."

John frowned and narrowed his eyes. He was hoping Jim was right, cause there was a thought in the back of John Winchester's head that he didn't even wanna think about.

---

_Ouch... Ouch... Ouch!_

Damn, that hurt! It literally felt like his heart was beating in his head. He swallowed a few times, trying to release the bitter taste in his mouth. It felt like he had been chewing on a pile of soil. He moaned in pain and started to rub his burning throat and neck. What could've done that? He didn't need a mirror to conclude that something pretty nasty had hurt his neck thid much.

The cord.

Poltergeist.

It all slowly came back to him. Sam remembered now. He had walked into that strange house opposite the motel and then he had been attacked. It all seemed blurry, but the details were clear. The door creaked open and the blurry face of his brother popped his head inside.

"Hey," said Dean softly and gently opened the door completely and stepped inside.

"Hey," came the weak response from Sam. He winced at the soreness and weakness in his own voice. It made him feel so vulnerable and small. Sam raised his eyebrows when he got a closer look at his older brother. He looked awful. Dean's eyes were bloodshot, he had black bags under his eyes and he looked incredibly pale. "You look terrible," Sam commented.

Dean gave Sam a weak smile and gently sat down on the chair next to the bed. "Yeah, well, that's what happens to a guy if he doesn't get a decent night's sleep for a month." Sam frowned. Dean's behaviour was weird. There was no other word to describe it. Sam couldn't help to feel uncomfortable at the way Dean was looking at Sam. All the love, the worry and... sorrow.

"Um, you never told me that," Sam rasped out and looked his brother in the eye. Dean narrowed his eyes and stared at Sam for a long time, looking confused. "What? What is it?" asked Sam and frowned deeper.

"Sam, what's the last thing you remember?" asked Dean, confused.

Sam swallowed and tried to clear his still blurry mind. "Uh, the cord. The poltergeist. It tried to strangle me, right?" Dean nodded slowly. "But, you saved me, right? I mean, or else I would be dead." There was a small silence and Dean looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. "Dean? You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost. Okay, maybe not the best reference in our line or work, but-"

"You're telling me that you don't remember where you've been, at all?" Dean interrupted with a pleading look.

"What do you mean 'been'?" asked Sam. Dean was acting weird, already said. But it wasn't like Dean. Millions of questions suddenly exploded in Sam's head out of nowhere. "Dean, how long have I been unconscious anyway? And where are we?" Sam looked around, recognizing some of the unusual paintings in the room. "Are we at Pastor Jim's?"

"Um, yeah," said Dean shocked.

"So, how long was I out?" repeated Sam.

Dean kept staring at Sam weirdly. "Um... 5 we-hours. 5 hours, yeah."

Sam nodded slowly. "Huh. Well, it could've been worse."

"No kidding."

"Man, it feels like someone just dropped a house on my neck," replied Sam and rubbed his sore throat.

Dean stood up abruptly. "Well, you should probably get some rest. You've had a rough... day. And you're probably in for a rough night with that sore throat of yours."

"But you just got here," said Sam in a disappointed voice. He didn't know why but it felt like he had loads of time to catch up with Dean. It felt like he hadn't been near Dean for weeks.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." Dean walked over and opened the door. He smirked at his little brother. "Besides, someone has to explain to Dad that you're gonna be OK, or else the old man's probably gonna have a heart attack." Sam smiled a little to Dean, and he left the room.

"Whoa, wait, Dad?" asked Sam confusedly just as Dean shut the door.

---

Dean shut the door behind him and leaned against it for support, praying that he wouldn't pass out right there on the spot. Dean pinched the bridge of nose and tried to absorb it all. Sam didn't remember anything. Nothing. Sam didn't have a clue that he had been dead.

---

_I know, it's short. But it's two days left for Christmas and it's basically a miracle that I've even had the time to post this chapter. The next chapter is definitely going to be longer and we'll have more of John and some evil forces. I might not be able to post it before New Year, but it'll definitely be up before I start school again, because when Christmas is over I'll have loads of time to write!_

_Anyway, you guys know the drill! **Review! **You know what they say, "a review is a fanficer's only payment". Is that right? I think it was like that. See ya guys!_


	5. Shape Of Things To Come

_Hey again everyone! I've got say THANK YOU so much to all of you who review or just read the story! And I really hope you all had a fabulous Christmas cause I know I did. Yep! I got exactly the CDs that I wanted, "Transatlanticism", "The Beautiful Letdown", and much more. Right now I'm listening to "Battle For Everything,". _

_Anyway, I noticed that some of you wondered if Sam is gonna be any different now when he's back from the dead. Sure, there's gonna be some changes with him, but not in the personality. He's still going to be Sam. And no, this is so not a deathfic, you guys! Okay, so I did kill Sam in the beginning but technically I brought him back right? Besides, I could never truly kill any of the brothers. I don't do that. This story is mainly going to focus on what happens when you mess with forces that you shouldn't mess with. Like Dean did when he brought his baby brother back from the dead. _

_Oh, and there's a small mention of Ridley C. James' Caleb in this chapter, so it belongs to her. Chapter 5 ladies and gentlemen. Enjoy!_

_---_

_I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight, angel-sweet love of my life... -_ "My Skin" - Natalie Merchant

---

Things becomes much more troublesome the more Sam recovered from his so-called little 'poltergeist-adventure', as Dean would like to put it. Dean convinced both his father and Pastor Jim that it would be best if Sam didn't know that he had in fact been dead for over five weeks. To Dean's big surprise, John Winchester completely agreed with Dean, while Pastor Jim however were against it.

"Sam's an adult, he deserves to know what really happened to him."

Both Dean and John snorted loudly at this. Sure, Sam had his rights as an adult, but right now Dean thought keeping the truth from Sammy would be best for everyone. It had actually been much more easier than he thought. Already the next morning, Pastor Jim had someone remove Sam's tombstone from the cemetery and John had all Death Certificates erased. You might think that be impossible, but John Winchester was a pro, while Dean spent most his time helping Sam recover.

"Dean, I don't need a babysitter!" that was the constant thing Dean kept hearing from Sam day in day out. Okay, so Dean had a knack of following Sam around a lot, but who could blame him? Dean just wanted to make sure that his little brother stayed alive.

The whole Sam-coming-back-from-the-dead had been hard on everyone, and Dean was still dealing. He truly thought that when his brother was back with him again, the dreams would stop, however they just got worse. Dean's restless nights, however, just kept on comin'. One night, Dean had awaken from a nightmare, thinking that Sam was dead again. When he realized that Sam was in fact sleeping peacefully in his bedroom, Dean had gone straight out in the church yard, grabbed a pick, and basically started to assault his car. Dean had gotten used to his sudden outburst which could surface now and then, even though Dean tried to convince himself that Sam was alive and alright.

After Sam had been back for three weeks, things slowly started to go back to normal, if normal was ever going to be something for the Winchesters. But Sam had been merely shocked when Dean had revealed to him that he had got a job in the city.

"You got a job?" asked Sam, both confused and stunned.

Dean grabbed the newspaper lying on the counter and grinned at his brother. "Don't be so shocked, little brother. I'm not all that thick-headed, you know."

"I never said you were, Dean. It's just... why did you get a job?"

"What? It could always be good to have a job. Besides, I could need some cash."

"You don't work for cash, Dean," Sam informed him. "You hustle and play poker on pubs. And I don't get why you started to working anyway. I'm fully recovered now, shouldn't we hit the road again?" Sam poured some milk over his cereals, not seeing the look his older brother gave him.

"Sammy, you nearly died. Like for real this time," said Dean quietly, and Sam looked up at him.

"So? Remember when we dealt with the Reaper, you nearly died then. And after the car crash, you were in a coma. You nearly died then too," Dean looked away. "We never stopped hunting then."

"I know, I know," said Dean softly. "I think we should just take a small break, that's all."

--

Sam wasn't hard to convince when it came to taking a break from hunting, his father however was a little harder to convince. "Taking a break?" came the stunned and shocked reply from John that night, giving his older son a-out-of-the-question look.

"Dad, Sam was dead, alright? Dead for real, he was in a fucking coffin for five weeks, Dad, five weeks!" yelled Dean angrily that night, as father and son was discussing in Jim's office. "He's not ready to get back on the field, neither am I."

John merely just shook his head and gave his soon a stern and commaning look. "Dean, the Demon-"

"I don't care about the damn demon!" growled Dean menacingly. "This is Sammy we're talking about Dad. I'm not going to put him back in the middle of the hunting after this. Not yet."

John stopped cleaning his rifle and looked his son straight in the eye. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"Look, Dad," said Dean in a softer and more respectful tone, as he sat down. "He could die. If we start hunting again, Sam could die." John opened his mouth to speak, but Dean wouldn't let him. "I know, there's always risks. But I can't lose him again, not like that. I won't," Dean could feel the hot tears burning underneath his eyelock but he refused to let them fall. "If he dies again... I'll die with him."

Dean rose from the chair, his heart pounding and his head aching. "You do as you want Dad." Dean turned away from him and walked over to the door. "But for now, Sammy and I are done." Dean opened the door and left, leaving his father stunned behind him.

Dean walked down the empty hallway towards the guest room, lost in thought. He poked his head into the chapel to say goodnight to Jim and then turned his attention to Sam's room. Dean knocked softly on the door, and opened the door. Sam was sitting on the bed, reading from a book while rubbing his temples furiously.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Dean worriedly, and made his way across the room and over to Sam.

"Yeah," said Sam and stopped rubbing his temples, blinking few times. "Just a headache. Nothing serious." Sam got up, walked into the bathroom and disappeared out of Dean's sight.

"Do you want me to get Pastor Jim?" asked Dean anxiously, praying that it wasn't something serious.

"No," came the reply through the door. "No, I'm good. Just give me a second."

Dean sighed deeply and sat down on the bed and eyed Sam's room. It usually looked like it used to when Sam stayed here, books everywhere. Dean smiled at the memories from the place, and how often he used to call Sam geek. "Geek," muttered Dean fondly. A flushing sound could be heard and Sam walked out of the room, looking slightly pale.

"Did you say something?" asked Sam, with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," Dean picked up _The Picture of Dorian Gray _and turned the front cover towards his brother. "I said geek."

Sam snorted.

"Dude, it's like a 18th century book," said Dean in disgust and flipped through the sides of the book.

Sam leaned over and snapped it from Dean's hands. "It was published in 1890, which is the 19th century, _dude._"

"That's exactly what I'm saying, geek all the way," pointed Dean out. "Besides, I can't believe you're reading creepy books like that."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Creepy is a little overreaction, it's just... classic. Just like your music." Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam frowned. "Wait a second, who did you know this book was creepy?" Dean opened his mouth and closed it. He did it a few more times which made him resemble a fish.

"You've read it," hissed Sam.

"Have not!" cried Dean offended.

"You so have."

"No."

"Dean."

"No."

"Just admit it, dude."

"Okay, fine. I surrender," Dean threw his hands in the hair dramatically and rolled his eyes. "9th grade, our English teacher forced us to choose a book that a dead guy had written. I got Oscar Wilde."

Sam cracked a smile.

"Dude, it's not funny," said Dean, offended. "Do you have any idea how much I struggled with that friggin' book? It was a nightmare for me." Sam grinned widely. "Stop laughing, that book was more of a pain-in-the-ass than any demon or spirit we've ever faced. Including that voodoo chick in Maine."

"Ah, you mean the voodoo chick who you slept with and then got some strange demonic chlamydia?" asked Sam, and started to laugh loudly.

"I swear to God, Sammy, you don't stop laughing I'm going to be forced to hurt you," threatened Dean in a clearly playfully tone.

"Is that a threat?"

"You bet your ass it is."

"You know you can borrow it again if you want," said Sam and give his big brother a teaseful smile.

"Ask me again one day, when hell is freezing over and humans starts developing wings."

Sam threw the book at the desk and layed down on the bed, his face facing the ceiling. Dean did the same, and grinned at the lamp in the ceiling as he let his head fall down on the soft and vanilia-smelling mattress. "What?" asked Sam and smiled.

"Nothing," Dean turned his head to look his brother in the eye. "I'm just glad you're okay again."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, me too," he said quietly.

"So, I'm going into town tomorrow with the Impala, need some repairing."

Sam narrowed his eyes, and frowned. "What for? I didn't know the car needed to be repaired?"

"Yeah, let's say she had a little accident," Dean looked away, it was strange. Dean felt more and more uncomfortable to lie to his brother about the whole thing. But it was for the best.

"I don't get it, why don't you just fix it up yourself?" asked Sam.

"Because, Sammy, my baby needs the royal treatment," said Dean proudly.

Sam snorted again. The brothers layed on the bed in silent for a few moments before Dean cleared his throat and stood up. "Well Sammy boy, I am going to bed now, so would you pless keep the volume down."

Sam smiled. "I'll try."

"Uh-huh, and don't forget your pills," reminded Dean, going into protective-mode. Dean wasn't the only one who had noticed Sam's frequent headaches, and Jim had insisted that it wasn't normal. However, Dean took the matter in his own hands and got Sam a description from the hospital. Dean opened the door, but turned to his brother before leaving.

"Oh, and one more thing, little brother," said Dean. "It wasn't chlamydia."

--

Dean woke up early the following morning. He was glad that at least this night, a nightmare hadn't kept him from sleep. He poked his head into Sam's room out of habit, and was relieved when he saw Sam peacefully sleeping. Dean made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee before driving his beaten-up Impala to the car workshop downtown. Dean jumped out of the car and walked over to a mechanic that was busy yelling at a client.

"Ahem," Dean cleared his throat to get the angry mechanic's attention. "Excuse me?"

The mechanic turned to Dean. "Just a sec, pal." And then he turned to the client. "I don't give a damn if it'll take the house, you will pay me buddy." Dean raised his eyebrows and turned his back on them and waited till the client had left. The mechanic turned to him. "Right sorry about that, I'm Denny."

"Denny, right," said Dean. "I called you the other night, about my car."

"Aah," Denny walked past Dean and eyed the Impala with big eyes. "Right you're the Impala man."

"Yep, that's me," said Dean with a forced smile.

"She's beautiful, a '67, right?" Dean nodded. "Very handsome. These are some really hardass marks. Who did this to her?"

"Let's just say I had a little accident," said Dean casually. "So, can you fix her up or not?"

Denny stroke a hand over his beard and looked like he was in deep thought. Dean raised his eyebrows expectably. Denny nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah, I can patch the little lady up, however, it's going to cost you, one grand."

Dean's jaw dropped. "One grand? What are you kidding me? I can buy a new car for that. Besides, Caleb specially recommended you, he said you were a good guy."

Denny hunched over to look at the marks on the side of the car and grinned. "Oh, I am a good guy. Caleb however, bless his spirit, is an idiot."

Dean shook his head and sighed. _This was gonna be a long day._

--

"I'm restless," complained Sam and rubbed his temples. He blinked a few times, trying to shake of the throbbing in his head. It was weird, he had taken the pills and still the headache just seemed to grow worse.

Jim looked up. Jim and Sam were sitting in Jim's office, organizing in book. "Still having headaches?"

"More like migraines," said Sam and inhaled sharply. "The medication isn't really working." Sam closed his eyes and opened them and threw a glance at Jim. "Though, it's nothing serious, right? I mean, side-effect from the poltergeist-attack?"

Sam couldn't help to feel worried when he saw Jim's expression. "No, Samuel. I'm sure it's nothing serious."

"I need to hunt," said Sam suddenly. Jim raised his eyebrows. "No, I'm serious. I mean, Dad's gone hunting, Dean's got a job and I'm stuck here."

"Am I boring you, Samuel?" asked Jim with a grin.

Sam grinned sheepishly. "No, Pastor Jim, it's not that. It's just... after being on the road for over a year and then all the suddenly we stop... it feels, I dunno, weird."

"Samuel, you're babbling," said Jim and stood up. "I'm going to get us some coffee, that usually stops your babbling, right? Or tones it down a bit," Sam smiled and Jim left the room. Sam sighed and looked around the room, feeling tired of sorting in different kinds of bibles.

Sam stood up and walked over towards the bookshelf, before he knew it, a hot-white sharp pain sliced its way into his head. He doubled over, gasping in pain as the familiar scensation of a vision crept its way into him. And then he was pulled into the vision.

---

_Yeah, another cliffhanger! Hey, I like them like that xD Anyway, hope you like the chapter and you know the drill, **review please! **I'm sorry if you guys noticed any extreme spelling mistakes, but I'm very tired tonight. There might be a possibility that I can post another chapter before school starts, but I can't promise anything! See ya!_


	6. Let Me Breathe

_Hey again! So, winter break's over but I've managed on the first week back in school to get a racing fever so I have some time writing on this chapter while babysitting Moses. So, I'm not going to spend so much time babbling in this author's note, that'll only kill my time to write. But thank you all who reviewed! Reviews keep me going. _

_---_

_I never really wanted you to see this screwed-up side of me thay I keep, locked inside of me so deep. _"Cold" - Crossfade.

_---_

_Sam stood up and walked over towards the bookshelf, before he knew it, a hot-white sharp pain sliced its way into his head. He doubled over, gasping in pain as the familiar scensation of a vision crept its way into him. And then he was pulled into the vision._

Sam staggered around in the office, his hand clapsed over his burning eyes and the other hand smashing things to the floor, as he struggled to not fall over. The young hunter was clearly having a real battle with not being pulled into the vision. It was strange, but never before had Sam been able to hold off the vision this long. Sam let out a whimper, as the pain in his head increased and he let the vision consume him.

_Sam stumbled and fell flat on the hard-wood floor. He opened his eyes and was relieved that the pain had ceased. Sam blinked a few times before_

_lifting his head up to see what the vision was about. Sam immediately recognized the familiar room. It was Pastor Jim's chapel. Sam shook his head, trying to get rid of the post-vision headache. He stood up and made out three figures standing at the end of the chapel. Sam took a few long and fast steps towards the people and knew exactly who they were._

_His brother Dean was standing against the wall, looking quite annoyed. "I told you, I was driving towards the chapel when I noticed someone lying on the grass in the middle of the cemetery!"_

_Sam frowned at the odd conversation, as the older pastor spoke up. "So, you decided to simply go and check it out?"_

_Sam took a few more steps closer to get a better look at his family's faces._

_"Well, if you saw a naked person lying in the middle of a cemetery in the dead night, right next to an open grave, wouldn't you think it's just a slight suspicious?" asked his older brother, the sarcasm unavoidable in his angry voice. "So, yes, I went to check it out and that's when I realized it was Sammy. The rest you know."_

_The words came like a punch, and a lump formed in Sam's throat. Whoa. Wait. What? He had been lying naked in the middle of the cemetery? Sam knitted his brows together and shook his head. This had already happened. This conversation had already happened. He just knew it. And that scared Sam the most. _

_Sam looked up again, as his father started to pace. "Jim, explanation please?"_

_Sam felt a rush of gratefulness towards his father, because an explanation would be something Sam'd like to have to. Especially before the vision ended, which it usually did in the wrong time._

_The pastor merely shook his head. "This is simply just impossible. People just don't rise from the dead. Unless-"_

_"I wan't to see him," interrupted his brother suddenly. Dean turned to Jim. "Can I see him?" However, he didn't have time to answer. Dean muttered something Sam was unable to hear and he left the room. _

_Thousands of thoughts were coursing through Sam's brain and he just stood like frozen. They were talking about him. Sam exhaled sharply and tried to clear his mind, while his father turned to Jim again._

_"Unless?" asked the hunter._

_"Unless someone brought Sam back," replied Jim with confidence in his voie. "With a resurrection spell."_

_Sam stumbled backwards, as he took some fast steps away from the two men. The pit in his stomach was growing, and he seriously thought there was some kind of upproar inside of him. The headache was slowly coming back, and Sam was starting to wonder when the damned vision would end. _

_Thoughts run through his brain as he tried to register what he had just heard. Dean. Pastor Jim. His father. How the hell come no one had told him what had happened to him? He had been dead. Sam had officially and physically been dead. And somehow... part of the revelation wasn't all that surprising. It was like he knew somewhere deep down inside of him that he hadn't really been in the land of the living all the time._

_Sam stopped abrubtly, and grabbed the nearest bench, trying to fight of the light-headedness. Everything was spinning as a clear face came infront of him and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him upright. Sam blinked a few times, and his blurry vision cleared revealing his brother standing infront of him looking at him._

_"Dean," Sam choked out his brother's name as tears came to his tired eyes._

_"You're one of us, Samuel," came the inhuman growl. Sam looked up and was shocked to come face-to-face with a pair of demonic yellow eyes. A small evil smile crept on Dean's handsome face. "You should have never left." Dean pushed Sam against the wall. "Now, this is on you." _

_"Dean," Sam once again found himself choking on his voice, as tears threatened to fall. Everything was just falling apart. "Dean, I don't understand. What's going on? Where are we?"_

_Dean let out a small gasp and the yellowness left his eyes, and the chocolate-brown colour was once again back. Sam's eyes widened as he saw something in Dean's eyes that he had never seen before. Fear._

_"Sammy," whispered Dean with pleading eyes. Dean lifted his arm and let his hand gently touch Sam's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, all of this is all my fault."_

_All of the sudden, Sam felt himself lifting off the ground, like he was soaring or floating. And the next thing he was being pulled backwards. Away from everything. Away from Dean. Colours. Darkness. Lightness. And Sam felt himself landing on the cold ground once again. This time it wasn't only Dean's voice that was familiar... it was also his own._

_"Dean we gotta do this."_

Sam closed his eyes and let himself stay on the ground, as he heard his brother's voice come into his mind. "No, Sam. I'm not doing it, dammit. How can you even think about it?"

_Sam felt a big wave of déjà vu rush through him and he shivered. This conversation had he definitely heard before. Sam remembered now, he had a vision about this. Right before he... Oh god. He had truly died._

_"Look at what's happening to the world," came the tearful response from Sam himself, as the conversation kept echoing in his head. "The world is doomed, Dean. Because of me. I shouldn't have come back." A sharp pain sliced through Sam and his body tensed, as he let out a small gasp. Let it be over._

New images suddenly filled Sam's mind. "You don't understand do you, Dean Winchester?" came another familiar voice. "You might've just unleashed a terrible evil into this world. Now you and your brother must stand for that." Sam groaned in pain. No. Wake me up. Agony. Pain. Horror. "This is all on you." Screaming. Famine. Death. Evil. No! Someone help me... wake me up... Someone wake me up...

---

Dean swore under his breath as he jumped out of the low-class truck that the mechanic had borrowed him. One of his best trucks had it apparently been. Dean snorted. _Best truck my ass! _Dean shut the door to the truck and turnd around, not all that surprised to come face to face with his father who was putting down some of his shutguns in the trunk of his truck.

"So, you're finally leaving?" asked Dean and walked slowly towards the car. He knew after all that his father was leaving, he had no intention to stay now when Sam was okay again.

"Yeah," replied John and closed the back truck. "I figured I'd stay to try and find out how Sam really got back. I mean, who might've been the one to perform that ritual." Dean looked away, trying not feel guilty that he wasn't feeling guilty since it was actually Dean who had brough Sam back. "You know, maybe it might've been the demon." Dean looked up. "But I don't think it was..." John took a few steps closer and looked directly into his oldest son's eyes. "I hope you know what you might've done here."

Dean gave a small and sad smile. Stupid of him to think that his father couldn't see right through him after all these years. _He could always figure me out after all. _John jumped into the truck and turned to Dean one last time.

"Explain to Sammy, would you?" said John with an unreadable expression. "Explain to him why I couldn't stay."

Dean nodded solemnly. "Take care of yourself, Dad."

"You two look after each other," said John gravely and pushed the pedal and drove away.

Dean exhaled the breath he had been holding for a few seconds. Dean had a feeling that things were going to get worse than they already were. Much more worse. Dean turned on his kneels and walked across the cemetery towards the chapel. He opened the back door and stepped in to see Pastor Jim standing by the disk in the kitchen.

"Dean, there you are," said Jim and filled up two cups of coffee. "I was just making some coffee. Would you like some?"

"Um, no thanks, Jim," muttered Dean and cleared his throat.

Jim noticed the distressed expression on the young man and immediately questioned it. "Everything alright, Dean?" Dean looked down, feeling slightly awkward. The saddness in Dean's eyes were hard to miss. "Ah... Jonathan left, didn't he?"

Dean just gave a small nod.

Dean didn't need to answer, Jim knew it anyway. "Dean, there's something you need to know about your father, that I'm not so sure you've understood. He loves you and Samuel more than anything in this world. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," came the hoarse reply from Dean.

Dean knew he was being slightly childish with acting like this over his father leaving. The point was, his father had always been on hunts and jobs for weeks and Dean knew he was alright, however, something felt more different now.

"So, how did it go with the car?" asked Jim and took a sip of his smoking-hot coffee.

"As sucky as expected," said Dean casually and Jim simply just rolled his eyes at the young huner. "Seriously, Pastor, I like this town and all, but your mechanics sucks." Jim gave a small smile. Dean looked around in the small kitchen and threw a glance into the empty chapel next door and frowned when he didn't see his brother. Dean turned back to Jim with a questioning frown. "Where's Sam?"

Jim let the cup fall from his lips and swallowed the coffee. "Mm, he's still in the office. I left in with some paper work. He seemed restless." Jim put the cup down. "And he babbled."

Typical Sammy. "That's our Sam." Dean walked across the kitchen towards the hallway, and turned to Jim before leaving. "Paper work, huh? I think that made him even more restless."

"It sure did," nodded Jim. "Hence the coffee."

Dean snorted and exited the kitchen, heading straight for Jim's office. However, as he entered the office he saw something that made his heart stop and the blood in his veins freeze to ice. Sam was lying in the middle of the office, his eyes closed, and his expression vacant.

"Sam?" asked Dean in a soft tone, hoping that it would just a big misunderstanding or something. Sam didn't respond, and for the first time since the accident Dean felt a wave of panic run through him and he was once again faced with the possibility of losing his little brother.

"Sammy!" choked Dean out in desperation and rushed over to his brother and kneeled next him. Dean rolled Sam's head towards him and pulled Sam's limp form against him and cradled him to his chest. "Sam? Can you hear me?" asked Dean in panic as he felt Sam's cheek and winced at the coldness of his baby brother's skin. "Sam, open your eyes! Open your eyes, dammit!" Dean let a pair of shaky fingers reach over at his neck and a tsunami of agony washed over him as he felt no pulse.

_This can't be happening. I just got him back. I just got him back!_ Dean mentally kicked himself for not starting CPR and gently lowered Sam to the ground and tilted his head backwards, trying to not let the familiar scene get to him.

"You are not doing this, you hear me? You are not fucking doing this again," mumbled Dean angrily and blew two breaths into Sam's lungs and then started to do compressions.

_Come on breathe. Breathe, dammit. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Damn you, Sammy. Breathe!_

Dean bend over and blew another two lungful of air into Sam, and then went back to pushing on his chest. "Come on, you can do it. I know you can." Dean was just about to think that his words of encouragement had absolutely no effect, that was until Sam suddenly inhaled sharply and he was back. "That's it, little brother, that's it. Slow breaths, now. Slow breathes." Dean felt a wave of relief course through his body. _This had been too close. Too damn close. _

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's shoulders, as Sam took a few shaky breathes and slowly opened his eyes. "Dean...?" came the hoarse whisper.

Dean threw his head backwards and took a few deep breaths himself. "Jesus, Sammy, you're a real fan of the non-oxygen thing, aren't you?"

Sam blinked a few times before finally looking up into Dean's eyes, and Dean frowned as he saw betrayal and hurt in Sam's eyes. "Why?" asked Sam quietly, as he still struggled to breathe evenly. "Why didn't you tell me?" Dean just shook his head in confusion. "I was supposed to be dead."

Dean froze in his place, as Sam looked at him accusingly. "Sammy..." came the agonized whisper from Dean.

Sam just shook his head and licked his dry lips.. "Dean, you have no idea what this means, do you? You shouldn't have brought me back. Now we all might be in danger." Sam pushed Dean away and shakingly stood up.

Sam swayed slightly, but grapped onto the wall for support waiting for the veritgo to pass. Dean took a step closer, an expression of worry aching on his scared face. "Sam, you need to let me explain this to you," said Dean defensively.

Sam shook his head and trembled slightly, the recent visions still spooking. "I get it, Dean." Sam turned to his brother and Dean was shocked to see tears forming in Sam's eyes. "I really do get it. I died... you wanted me alive again. But did you even think of the consequences?"

Dean pursed his lips angrily and snapped, "Sam, don't lecture me alright? We don't need to talk about this now!"

"No!" yelled Sam angrily and shoved some paper to the ground in rage. "I wouldn't get it either if I were you. But I've seen it, this resurrection spell, we might've doomed us all."

Dean swallowed hard and Sam slumped his shoulders and sat down and silenced consumed the both thoughtful brothers.

_---_

_If you're reading this, I suppose you've read the chapter. So big thank you! And please leave a review:D_


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